


No way out

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Established Relationship, M/M, Spoilers, brief mention of others - Freeform, not main characters though, spoilers for 7.01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: Rick can’t see a way out. Turns out he doesn’t have to.
Aka my take on how to deal with the Negan situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So! For my first attempt at this fandom I'm taking on the first episode of season 7! This will totally be jossed tomorrow night but I wanted to get it out there...let me know what you think! Spoilers ahead!
> 
> The established relationship is Rickyl, and most characters are just briefly mentioned.

Rick can’t see a way out.

He’s felt this way before, with the Governor, the prison; but this time he can’t see passed the death, of Glenn and Abraham, of Negan forcing Carl to the ground, of how he _still has_ _Daryl_ …

He’s supposed to have a way out, a way for this to all work out for the Alexandrians.

Turns out he doesn’t have to.

Three weeks of sleepless nights, or nightmares he wakes screaming from when he does manage to drop off, and Maggie approaches him, hands him the ax—he can still hear Negan’s voice—and calmly explains the plan.

She’s pale, dark circles around her eyes that leave her looking more dead than alive, but her belly is rounder and there’s a fire to her, something that could easily consume them all. He’s only seen glimpses of it before but now it’s like a phoenix rising from the ashes of Negan’s destruction to _burn_ everything in her reach.

So they burn the woods as the barest hint of dawn creeps over the tree line. Split into groups they cut off Negan’s army piece by piece with the traps they’ve placed. They mimic their calls; use their strength against them, as the sounds of men being slaughtered fill the early morning air. The small group that is left is desperate, crowding around the trucks as though they can protect their leader. Or maybe Negan is supposed to be protecting them.

Rick grips the ax tighter in his palm, feeling sweat slick the handle. Some part of him wonders if he’s supposed to end this with the ax, use it to kill Negan, take out this threat to his family.

“You’re going to regret this Rick!” Negan calls, the same goddam arrogant smirk pasted on his face despite the death of so many of his men. “My offer was more than fair. Now I’ll have to make another example.”

Simon drags a body from the back of the truck. Rick’s heart stalls, skips a beat, as Daryl struggles but he’s sagging in the grip arms swatting uselessly at Simon’s hand twisted tight in his dark hair. Daryl’s paler than Rick’s ever seen him, face twisted in a painful grimace but fury is radiating from him. He meets Rick’s gaze and whatever nightmarish scenarios he’d been imagining—and there had been many; nights where he’d been terrified to close his eyes, had to sit silently with Judith, listening to her quiet breathing to chase away the sounds of screams—his Daryl’s still in there.

“Let him go.” He feels like all he does anymore is plead with psychopaths, plead for his people, beg for some semblance of peace in this nightmare of a world.

Negan laughs, high and pleased, like there’s something worth being happy about right now, like Rick and his family don’t have him cornered. He hefts his bat in his hand, threatening. Rick feels Carl and Michonne flanking him, ready.

“You think you’ve won?” Negan grabs a handful of Daryl’s vest and pulls him closer. Daryl stumbles but keeps to his feet, hair hanging down to hide his gaze. Rick’s python sits heavy on his hip, his fingers itching for the familiar weight. “You’ve just made it worse on yourselves.”

Shots ring out; a heavy, piercing sound that lights up the forest.

Negan’s men fall, injured, dead—he doesn’t care.

Rick’s remaining group steps from the cover of the tree line, grim faces and weapons held ready.

He doesn’t remember the ax leaving his hands but he’ll never forget the image of it embedding itself high on Negan’s thigh.

Daryl breaks away, stumbles and Rick surges forwards to meet him. He wraps his arms tight around the other man; half drags him back until they’re well out of Negan’s reach.

“Come on Rick!” Negan goads even as he reaches down and pulls the ax from his own leg. A fresh spurt of blood follows the movement. “Aren’t you going to finish the job? It’s _your job_ to protect your people isn’t it?”

He shifts his weight off his bad leg, an awkward movement that nearly over balances him with the weight of his bat.

Rick can’t find the words, lets his silence speak for himself as he holds Daryl tighter, feeling how thin he’s gotten in the time Negan’s had him.

“It’s not just his job.” Michonne keeps her gun levelled on him.

Negan is so focused on the group before him he doesn’t notice the others until it’s too late.

Maggie, Sasha, and Rosita descend upon him. Their guns are tucked safely away, grips tight and sure around the handles of the baseball bats they’ve been modifying for weeks.

Rick forces himself not to look away, feels detached from the violence but with a firm feeling of justice or maybe _revenge_. No one stops the women; no one says a word long past Negan’s last breath.

They keep going until there’s barely anything left to identify the body by, until their arms grow weak, and harsh sobs wrack their bodies and their knees give out from underneath them.

And then Eugene and Aaron and Tara and Michonne step up to take the bats, to help them back to their feet and to the cars they have hidden a safe distance away.

No one goes back for Negan’s body.

“Burn the bat.” Rick orders, voice hoarse. Heath collects it with a grimace and follows the others.

Carol and Carl are the last ones in the clearing with them. She’d shown up one day, with Heath and Tara, like she _knew_ something was wrong. They always seem to know when they’re needed.

“Let’s get out of here.” Carl slings one of Daryl’s arms over his shoulders even as Carol presses close, brushes a kiss against his pale cheek. Daryl’s other hand tightens its grip on Rick like he’s afraid Rick will step away and disappear. He presses his own kiss to Daryl’s temple, feels the stringy hair against his cheek, and the way his skin is too cool to the touch.

The early morning sky is slowly clouding over with heavy rain clouds, hopefully enough to put out the fires they had set before it can spread much further. It’s still a little ways off so they hasten to the cars. Carl and Carol take the front seats and Rick slides into the back, pulling Daryl in to rest his back against Rick’s chest. It’s a long drive back and Rick hopes that Daryl sleeps through it, he needs the rest, but the other man remains tense against him for a while.

“What’s on your mind?” He murmurs and the pair up front is nice enough to pretend they can’t hear them.

Daryl hesitates, twining his fingers with Rick’s where they rest on his belly, and then says,

“Glenn. Abraham.”

He knows what the other man is referring to, to the way he’d surged up after Negan had killed Abraham, how he’d fought back and a moment later Glenn was dead too.

“Not your fault.” He says firmly, tightening his hold.

Daryl doesn’t say anything but Rick knows how his mind works. He soaks up guilt like a starving man.

“Not your fault.” Rick repeats, knowing he’ll repeat it over and over again until Daryl finally believes it.

 


End file.
